Triumvirate
by ecto1B
Summary: Three dimensions coexist along a delicate plane. The first is home to heroes like Superman and Batman, where the Justice League defends the earth. The second houses the Avengers, a potpourri of scientists, soldiers, and billionaires. The third has no superheroes, no domineering supervillains, and no idea of true danger. It's the perfect opportunity for vengeance. Bats/OC, Cap/OC
1. Chapter One

**Triumvirate**

An Avengers/Justice League Fanfic by _SouthernImagineer/ecto1B_ and _b4tmans_

Chapter One

* * *

_"Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,_

_The ear more quick of apprehension makes. _

_Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense,_

_It pays the hearing double recompense. _

_Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found. _

_Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound. _

_But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?"_

_- _William Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream"

* * *

It was a mingling of two polar entities, a clash ridden with revenge and sore motives. It was a trembling of the lips provoking a fainting of the breath, a euphemism disguising a caustic remark, a terse observation. It was a narrative twined with fate, laced with serendipity, fused with harmony, unhinged and set free to ravage and inflame those unfortunate enough to be caught in the crossfire.

He, the knight, was with her, the dreamer.

He, the soldier, was with her, the seeker.

It began as it ended. Touch, taste. Fingers twining. Fists clenching, meeting walls, digging through plaster. Nails biting skin, pricking, opening wounds to expose blood. Bodies colliding, violence stirring. Sweat meeting sweat. Heated emotions, veins boiling, soon searing hot, molten liquid. Teeth gritting, eyes shutting, languid motions paired with aggressive stances.

Battlefield.

Bedroom.

A theater of warfare. A vendetta of sorts. A joining of precocious minds, indifferent. A mission of utmost importance, gravity of existential ideas, of transcendental, quixotic thoughts. A transformation of forms, a mesh of traditions. One target, ringed in fire, in liberty. One hero, not needed, but deserved. One objective, effortlessly seen, painfully secured. Darkness, measured. Caustic brushes, bruises, inflicted upon those against it.

And what was to be gained from this? What sycophantic message had driven itself through the boundaries of three locales, splitting them evenly and opening each up to damage and danger?

Perhaps the cause would never be determined, but what resulted was a sort of accidental exodus.

**Three** worlds conflicting.

**Two** teams uniting.

**One** grave mistake.

* * *

"_If it be aught toward the general good,_

_Set honor in one eye and death i' th' other,_

_And I will look on both indifferently,_

_For let the gods so speed me as I love_

_The name of honor more than I fear death."_

_- _William Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar"


	2. Chapter Two

**Triumvirate**

An Avengers/Justice League Fanfic by _SouthernImagineer/ecto1B_ and _b4tmans_

Chapter Two

* * *

_Dimension #1 - (The Justice League)_

They gathered in civilian clothes, brought together by an unexpected call to action, a distressed matter presenting itself at a time when many of the Justice League members were relaxing at home or casually going about their business. So aptly did a majority blend with modern society; so easy were their disguised selves weaved within a typical town or district, but when congregated together, one could certainly determine which superhuman was which.

Along with those members of the team who did _not_ venture into the open, such as Martian Manhunter and Red Tornado, the Justice League met at the Wayne estate. Arriving was as simple as materializing discreetly in the vicinity of Gotham; remaining inconspicuous, however, was another matter entirely. When the group finally convened, it was almost nightfall, and the master of the manor, Bruce Wayne, had already become disgruntled.

"Is there a reason so many of us arrived so late?" he asked, slipping a dark Armani jacket over his shirt and buttoning it at the middle. "I believe I called for this assembly two hours ago." His blue eyes darted about the richly ornamental dining room, meeting the gazes of his companions, some appearing slightly unnerved by his presence. For most of the Justice League, seeing Bruce Wayne speak as Batman was a peculiar occurrence. The alter ego of the famed Dark Knight, Wayne was a philanthropist, a connoisseur, and a playboy with a love of money, expensive wine, and fine women. Rarely did the man display sincerity while in the public eye. Batman, however, held an enormous amount of significance when he spoke, and as Wayne channeled that very persona, many were off-put.

Barry Allen, known to the world as Flash, was one of them. He, conveniently, sat to Wayne's immediate left, and he gave the dark-haired host a dismayed look. "I, for one, can't offer an explanation," he responded, raising a hand. "I got here first."

The moment was too serious for anyone at the table to get the humor in his statement. Smiles were absent.

Flash awkwardly lowered his hand.

"I believe most of us had previous engagements," Aquaman, who was seated at the end of the table, chose to direct his assumption at the company, instead of remotely at Batman. "We came as soon as we could."

The woman beside him rose in her seat, disrupting the expected wave of excuses from the other members. It was Wonder Woman, narrowing her eyes and digging her palms into the tabletop. "Why such an abrupt call, Bruce? What sort of problem requires us to gather here, instead of at the Hall of Justice?"

"I did not think discussing such a topic near the nation's capitol would be wise, Diana," Batman replied as placidly as he could. "Something is definitely wrong, and we must address it immediately." Now a pregnant silence gripped the room, and that was enough to force him to continue. "I am sure everyone here has noticed the lack of action these past few days, among all of us. Star City, Gotham, Metropolis, Central City… our main locations for combat have been silent. I've also checked the local scanners for any signs of activity. Our adversaries seemed to have vanished completely from the map."

"I thought we assumed our enemies were gearing up for a combined attack," Superman spoke out. He sat up, resting his broad, muscular shoulders against the high-backed chair, and made an effort to meet the eyes of every hero at the table. "We spoke about this three days ago, Bruce. I don't believe we require another briefing."

"Hold on, Clark." Wonder Woman motioned for him to pause, and she, too, reclined in her seat. "Let Bruce finish."

"I don't believe they are joining forces… _here_, anyway," Batman said, quickly countering the Kryptonian's statement. "Most likely, they are mobilizing to initiate a wave of attack somewhere else."

Another silence. This one was met with an abundance of furrowed brows and pursed lips.

"Like… another country?" the Green Lantern finally put forth.

At this, Superman's eyes darkened significantly. He seemed to be the only one at the table who understood Batman's unclear words. "I think he means something else, Hal. Something that we've come across before." He raised a single eyebrow. "Something we are _very_ familiar with."

"You don't mean…" Flash began. His head turned back and forth from Superman to Batman, wide-eyed and jaw slack.

"Yes."

"But Bruce—"

"Barry, all signs point to it." Locking his hands together and resting the meshed structure atop the table, Batman dropped his chin. "Our enemies must have access to alternate dimensions."

* * *

_Dimension #2 - (The Avengers)_

Stark Tower was chaos' headquarters.

Items were destroyed.

People were hurt.

And AC/DC rattled the walls.

Though many would consider Tony Stark a literal embodiment of chaos, it was really all something that would add a bit of exhilaration to the lackluster day-to-day life that he and the others were living. The other Avengers were as bored stiff as Tony was, and when a crime-fighting team with superpowers got bored, shit got broken.

Like, lots of shit.

Every Avenger knew something was wrong. They all had a sinking feeling in the pit of their stomachs, like something was coming. Something immense, destructive and terrifying. But, there was no indicator of impending doom.

No locust swarms.

No red sky.

No devastating diseases.

In the back of everyone's head, they all knew something was going to happen. So, when Stark assembled the gang on the top floor, musing over a drink, they all knew something was wrong. Tony _always drank_. But never wine. Wine was for stress. Tony was never stressed, ever. When he was stressed he blew things up, and things were all better.

No. Tony wasn't stressed. He was concerned.

"Dude, what is going on?"

A voice came from the balcony, and there hung Spiderman, his voice slightly amused.

The group of individuals who had already gathered around the meeting table watched as the man gracefully leapt down from his hanging spot and sauntered over to the table, placing one hand on his hip and rolling his shoulders.

"Y'know, you guys interrupted my massage," he inclined his masked head towards Tony. "These nice gentlemen were robbing an old woman of her Coach handbag and decided to beat me with the purse."

At this, Bruce Banner laughed into his arm, passing it off as a cough.

"It felt rather nice," Peter snorted. "That's how you can tell it's nice leather."

Natasha Romanoff rolled her eyes, watching the boys greet one another and talk. The redhead casually inspected her nails, her black combat boots propped up on the table. She was bored to death, and the sooner Wasp arrived, the better.

Clint Barton, her partner for as long as Natasha could remember, was sitting on one of the bar stools, playing with his bow. While Clint tugged at the bow's string and adjusted the arrows, Tony was behind the bar, getting himself another glass of wine. Pepper took her spot by the door, gripping a manila folder and looking rather pale.

Thor Odinson, the bulky Asgardian god, was staring intently at the microwave at the edge of the bar, waiting intently for something; Nat only assumed it was Pop-Tarts. The god was obsessed with the breakfast snack, and it seemed to be the only Midgardian food that brought the god of thunder joy.

Bruce Banner was seated at the conference table, playing with one of Tony's gadgets. The kind man quietly fiddled with the touch screen, only looking up when the door to the room slid open.

Natasha's prayers seemed to be answered when Hank Pym, _Ant-man_, and Janet van Dyne, _Wasp_, walked in hand in hand. The couple greeted the others in the room, concern written across their faces. Behind them, Steve Rogers greeted Pepper with a smile.

With the entire team present, the room was finally full, and as each member took their seat by the table, Tony poured himself more wine.

"All right," Tony muttered, "you're probably all wondering why you're here. We haven't had a single Loki problem in over five months."

Every head in the room swiveled to Thor, who in turn, angrily chewed his Pop-Tart.

"Are you saying that we've actually got something?" Hank piped up, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

"I'd hate to say so… but, yeah. We've got something. Something _big._" Tony looked to Thor, waving at the god to explain.

"My brother escaped Asgard a few weeks ago. With him, he stole the Tesseract."

Every Avenger in the room groaned.

"Are you kidding me?" Bruce stood, anger written across the Doctor's features. "The last time Loki got a hold of the Tesseract, he _nearly wiped out all of New York_."

Taking a rather large bite of the strawberry Pop-Tart, Thor nodded. "Yes, and that's why we have gathered you all here today."

"Chew with your mouth closed, Blondie," Tony patted the god on the shoulder before waltzing up to the panel where JARVIS, _Just A Really Very Intelligent System_, powered up, and soon holograms flooded the room.

From his spot in the conference table, Peter poked the hologram closest to him, sending it flying across the room to Clint, who hit it back.

"Whoa."

Approaching a hologram near Tony, Captain America crossed his arms and furrowed his brow. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but normally, space does not look like that."

There was a floating projection of Earth, and by it, a cluster of stars was being plagued by a large ripple of space dust, the blue and black cloud leering menacingly at the human planet.

"Stevie-pie here is right." Pinching the hologram and throwing his arms to the side, Tony enlarged to image and threw it over the conference table, letting it spin slowly. "Over the past eight days, cosmic occurrences have been erupting all over the place, not just along the Milky Way. After the occurrences, large clouds of cosmic waste have been found littered about the place. Basically, this is the crap that comes out of the wrong end of a wormhole. _Except, _there was no wormhole. Butwe _have_ found something."

Tony enlarged another image, and this one was something everyone was familiar with. A large blue cube known the Tesseract lingered above the Avenger's heads.

"We found our old pal's energy signature lingering around these clouds." Tony leaned back in his chair, sipping his wine.

Bruce frowned, looked to Hank, and then to Tony. The three scientists in the room made eyes at one another before pausing. Tony had a sarcastically cheery look on his face, while Hank and Bruce looked at one another, their eyes wide.

Janet waved a hand in front of her husband's face.

"Hello? Earth to Ant-man. What're you guys ogling about?"

There was silence, and then Hank spoke, "Loki is cutting holes to different dimensions."

"_Ding, ding, ding!_ And we have a winner!"

* * *

_Dimension #3_

"You know, you shouldn't be drinking this early."

"Screw you." Smiling against the rim of her wine glass, Gabriella gulped down another splash of Merlot. The purple liquid hastily stained her lips, but she wiped it away with one fluid motion. "I survived the usual unpleasant Monday awakening. This is merely my reward."

"That's funny. I never took you as anything remotely epicurean."

"Really now?" Gabriella clutched the chalice by the stem with one hand and leaned against the kitchen counter, directing her gaze across the room at her friend. "Have you not noticed the fine selection I keep in our wine fridge? I am _obviously_ a devout connoisseur when it comes to luxury." To emphasize her sarcasm, the woman flicked a regal hand and flashed a celebrity-worthy smile.

Maggie giggled in response. She was posed against the sink, sipping at a freshly poured cup of orange juice. "You should really make an effort to drink more moderately, Gabby. All that wine can't be good for you. Especially this early."

With a shrug, Gabriella twirled her glass between her fingers. Instinctively, her eyes darted to the digital clock on the microwave, assuring herself that there was still time to smarten up before work. _Good. I have an hour. Just enough._ Her attention returned to her friend. "I'm improving; I swear! I haven't gotten smashed in months. Gabriella Cochran knows to stay sober… for dear teetotal Maggie's sake."

Maggie's jaw dropped, but the corners of her lips curled upward. "Excuse me—I am _not_… I don't…" Fumbling for words, she laughed and deposited her empty cup in the sink. "God, you're unbelievable sometimes! I _drink_!"

"Maggie? You in here?" Interrupting the friends from conversing any further, a slender male figure, wearing nothing but plaid boxers, stepped into the kitchen and ambled over to Maggie. His brown hair, violently cowlicked into his face, hid his colorless, torpid eyes from Gabriella's view, and his lips, minimal things positioned beneath a firm nose, curled and stretched into a yawn. The instant he wrapped an arm around Maggie's waist, Gabriella caught herself sighing.

"I don't know about the drinking, but you _definitely_ have a sex life," she remarked, raising an eyebrow in her friend's direction. "When did _he_ come over?"

The man turned red in the face. "Nice to see you, too, Gabby."

"And _you_ were lecturing _me_ on my drinking, eh?" She went on, ignoring him. Obvious annoyance surged in her voice, no matter how hard she tried to repress it. "Who's the pleasure-seeker now?"

"Gabby—"

"Whatever." Downing the rest of her glass with one careful swig, Gabriella sauntered towards her bedroom at the end of the apartment's hallway. Before she vanished, she paused. "Good seeing you, Matt. Next time, I'd like a warning before you break in to our home. Thanks."

With that, she was gone, and her door locked with a harsh click.

"Mondays and wine do that to her. They make her moody." Maggie frowned, huffed, and patted her boyfriend's shoulder. "Sorry about that."

"She doesn't like me," Matt pointed out.

"She's just being protective of me. We've known each other since middle school… I can't blame her for being careful." Slowly, she glanced around the kitchen. "And this _is_ her apartment. I only pay a percentage of the rent. I can see why she's a bit cautious about me bringing guys here."

Noticing his girlfriend's anxiousness, Matt leaned down and kissed the woman's cheek. "Well, let's move on. Did you have breakfast already? I'm starving."

"I had orange juice, but it won't hold me over for long." Now, Maggie smirked, snapping out of her depressed mood. "You're driving me to work on your way home, right? We can pick up some McDonalds on the way."

"Sounds good!" Playfully saluting her, the man slipped back to Maggie's room, leaving the young woman alone in the kitchen. She watched him go, noticing how he neglected to shut the door as he changed.

"Matt, if Gabby sees you—"

She saw him hobble over to the door to shut it, his pants dangling on his knees.

"Awesome. Thanks."

She sighed again.

_Just another day, right?_

* * *

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

(Any Batman fans should go check out "**Criminal Habits**" by my lovely cowriter, b4tmans. It's a FANTASTIC story that takes place around the upcoming 'Dark Knight Rises' storyline... Bane/OC sounds great, right?)


End file.
